A Rose Amongst the Salt
by sateinen
Summary: Alora Tyrell is sent North in the hopes of securing a marriage between the Tyrells and the Starks. Her grandmother didn't expect her to fall for the kraken.


_A/n: Hello all, welcome! A few quick notes – I have taken many liberties in this story, so some of the ages/plot points will be very different from the books and/or show. This will mainly be a Theon x OC story, but there will be hints of Margaery x Robb as well! Also, if you are interested in a Bronn x OC story, please go check out the other fic I have just started, "The Lady and the Sellsword". I hope you enjoy!_

_Lady Olenna Tyrell_

From her tower, Lady Olenna Tyrell could see far and wide across the grounds of Highgarden. It was midday – the smell of ripe peaches and melons reached up to the lady's tower while the sounds of the singers that often arrived in droves to the capital of the Reach were faint. She could hear the gentle flow of the Mander, where several parties floated along in pleasure boats. Closer in, near the castle, Olenna could just make out where her grandchildren roamed the grounds; she had much sharper sight than many believed, and she preferred to be underestimated. She had earned the moniker 'Queen of Thorns' for a reason. Lady Olenna was a shrewd, calculating woman. She intended to further the Tyrell name, and her three favorite grandchildren were the keys.

Olenna could just hear the clash of steel from the training grounds as she headed back into her rooms and sat at her table, looking over a map of Westeros. She knew her eldest, Loras, would train day and night if he were permitted. As the only son of Mace, and the eldest child, he was the heir to Highgarden, but Olenna knew that it was unlikely for Loras to ever become Lord Paramount of the Reach. Loras dreamt of the Kingsguard. He was an excellent fighter, already knighted at eight-and-ten, so there was little chance he wouldn't someday achieve his goal. Olenna thought it was for the best; Loras thought with his heart, not his head. He acted on impulse and he wasn't quite cunning enough to be at the head of such a large castle like Highgarden. Plus, Olenna had heard whisperings that Loras was the sort to never lie with a woman, thus making him unsuitable to inherit Highgarden, as he would never have heirs. Olenna didn't worry too much about this, for she had two other grandchildren which Highgarden could be bestowed upon. In truth, she had many other grandchildren, nieces, nephews, and the like, but none which she loved so much as Mace's three children.

Her youngest, Margaery, a maid of five-and-ten, wanted to be queen. Margaery took after Olenna in many ways. She knew when to use her beauty, and when to be crafty. She was kind and lively, and while she too often acted from her heart, it was out of goodness. She had a slow temper and a just nature, the kind of lady who ought to be queen. Olenna knew that Loras was conspiring with Renly Baratheon to bring Margaery to court, at Margaery's urging. They hoped that King Robert would lust after the girl, bed her, wed her, and make her his new queen. Olenna knew this because it had been her idea; she had first thought to marry Margaery to the young prince, Joffrey, but now that both were old enough to wed, she wasn't so sure. There were rumors of the young prince's temperament and she would not leave Margaery in his grasp. However, if it became necessary, she knew there were others who would like to be rid of the boy. If Margaery was queen, she could not inherit Highgarden. Her children would inherit the Iron Throne and likely Dragonstone, as Stannis had no male heir and it was unlikely anyone would want to give the seat to his daughter, a sickly thing.

No, it was her middle grandchild that Olenna thought to place at the seat of Highgarden, if she could bring the girl to heel. She might have schemed to make the girl queen before Margaery, if she believed it was what the girl wanted. Alora Tyrell was seven-and-ten and perhaps the most beautiful of all her grandchildren. She took after her mother and the Hightower women; her hair was silvery and straight, a stark contrast to Margaery and Loras's brown curls. Her eyes were an icy silver, and if Olenna had not been present for her birth, she might have thought Lady Alerie had found the babe on the streets, for she was so different in looks to the other Tyrells. The girl was a rose through and through, as Olenna had taught her well over the years. However, there remained a wildness in Alora that both Loras and Margaery lacked. She was often found in the woods, practicing with her bow, or more likely, with that beast of a horse that she had begged Mace for.

Such a girl would not do well in the capital. Margaery was able to temper her emotions and assess situations, whereas Alora would likely insult the uptight lords and ladies of King's Landing. Olenna had thought she might place the girl in Dorne; surely their sensibilities and liberal nature would be a good match for Alora and she had liked Sunspear well enough when she had visited as a young girl, but there was still unrest in Dorne. The ache to avenge Princess Elia's murder only grew with the passing years, and Olenna feared that it would come to war if they were denied for much longer. Dorne, for the time, was unsafe. Loras was to head to King's Landing in a fortnight, with the promise of setting the stage for Margaery to arrive later in the year. They wanted to wait until she was six-and-ten, fully grown into herself, before allowing King Robert to lay his eyes on her. Olenna was determined to send Alora along with his party, not to King's Landing, but to another noble house where she could be fostered and hopefully enrapture a young lord.

Her wrinkled fingers trembled as they traced over the map in front of her, passing quickly over Dorne and King's Landing. The Stormlands to the east she ignored too; she felt confident that Margaery would secure her place as queen, and thus didn't want two of her grandchildren married to Baratheons – besides, she suspected that Lord Renly took after Loras and was impervious to the charms of ladies. She would rather cut off her own head than foster Alora at Casterly Rock with Lord Tywin, so her hands skipped to the Riverlands and the Vale. The Eyrie's heir was much too young, and she had heard rumors that Edmure Tully of Riverrun was fond of pretty girls, perhaps too fond of them if she wanted to secure Alora a marriage in which she didn't have to worry about her husband's bastards. She nearly laughed as she approached the Iron Islands – she couldn't imagine a rose amongst the salt, and besides, Baylon Greyjoy's only son was a ward in the North under Lord Eddard Stark…

Her hand suddenly stopped as she eyed the map hesitantly, wondering why she hadn't thought of it before. The North, though part of the seven kingdoms, was vast and untamed and nearly the size of the rest of the lands combined. The Northerners were not so uptight as those in King's Landing, but they had a strange, stoic sort of honor. Olenna knew that Lord Stark had a son nearly the same age as Alora, plus the Greyjoy ward was there, though that was not as ideal. Still, it was two chances for Alora to enchant a young man from a Great house. Alora's children could take Winterfell or the Iron Islands and Highgarden. Either one of the largest armies in Westeros, or the Iron Fleet, along with Highgarden's bounty. And if Margaery were to be queen, she could settle any disputes that might aim to take away Highgarden from Alora's children. Her mind settled, Olenna reached for some parchment and summoned the Maester, intent on sending a raven to Winterfell before nightfall.

_Lady Alora Tyrell _

They had been traveling for what seemed like years, but Alora knew it had been just under two months since she had left Highgarden for Winterfell. It hadn't been all bad – they had stopped often to rest the horses, and she had traveled with Loras for a little while. They had laughed and enjoyed the countryside together. Loras had helped her practice with her bow, and had even once given her a lesson with a wooden sword, much to the chagrin of the Tyrell guards. But too soon she was leaving her brother to depart past the capital. The journey along the Trident had been beautiful, and Alora had remembered the stories of her childhood, wondering if it were true that some of the rubies from Rhaegar Targaryen's armor were still scattered in the river. As they closed in on the last leg of their journey, Alora had noticed the days becoming cooler. She didn't mind too much – she enjoyed the fresh air against her skin - but she did want for some warmer clothes. Hopefully the Starks would be able to assist her once she arrived.

Her stallion, Balerion, snorted and tossed his head at the sight of a rabbit crossing their path, and she gently stroked his neck. She knew that most of the guard thought it unladylike and unseemly for her to be on horseback, let alone on a stallion, but she didn't care. Alora had named him after the Black Dread, for he had an inky black coat without a single speck of white on him. He was Dornish bred, agile and tall, though he looked almost delicate next to the other destriers. She knew he could outrun any of them, and he could definitely outlast them.

The Dornish didn't normally sell their horses outside of Dorne, especially not the stallions. Alora had been just a girl of ten when she had gone to Sunspear with Mace to visit Prince Doran. They had been admiring the horses in the stables when Prince Doran had been informed that one of his mares had died giving birth. The foal was small and sickly, and likely wouldn't survive without his mother's milk. The stables had no other mares that could nurse him. Alora had begged to see the colt, and her heart had cried out upon spotting the little creature, so weak and alone. She persuaded her father to buy him and later she realized that Prince Doran was simply being kind, that he never expected the colt to survive past a few days.

She purchased goat's milk from the market and nursed him from a wine skin. Inexplicably, the little colt quickly gained strength and soon would wait for Alora to approach him in the stables. Prince Doran had been shocked, but he would not go back on his deal, especially when one day he found Alora and the little colt fast asleep in the stables. Within a fortnight, Balerion was strong enough to be led home to Highgarden. The stablemasters both praised and cursed his nature, for he was tame on the ground if he wished to be, but no one but Alora could sit him, for he would sidestep as if dancing to a Braavosi song and toss the rider.

"My lady, Winterfell is less than half of a day away." One of her guards, an older knight called Ser Kiran Osgrey, rode alongside her. Once she was settled in Winterfell, only four of the guards would remain with her, along with her two maids, Tayla and Lusia. She knew the Starks were honorable and would provide her with protection, but still, she felt sad that she would have so little of Highgarden with her.

"Thank you, Ser. Might we stop for a bit once we are a little closer so I can make myself presentable for Lord and Lady Stark?" She was looking forward to having a proper bath once she was inside the walls of Winterfell. Though her maids had helped her bathe at the inns, it would be nice to have a bath in her own chambers.

"Of course, Lady Alora. We shall rest once we are about an hour away."

_Theon Greyjoy_

Theon strolled through one of the larger courtyards with Robb Stark and Jon Snow, knowing they were expected to meet the Tyrell girl with Lord and Lady Stark. He was telling them about his most recent tumble with Ros – Robb laughed and looked curious, though he refrained from asking too many questions. Jon was disapproving, but still enjoyed Theon's storytelling, as always. At eight-and-ten, Theon had been a ward of Lord Eddard Stark for nine years, and he had grown to love Robb, and even Jon on occasion, as brothers. Still, he could remember the salty air and wind from his childhood home, and he hoped to soon return to the Iron Isles.

"So, she had her hands around my cock and was just about to-" Before Theon could finish telling his bawdy tale, Maester Luwin caught the three, who had the wherewithal to look abashed.

"You three ought to be by the south gate to welcome Lady Alora. Go on, all of you." Properly scolded, the three made their way through the complex of walls, looking over their shoulders in case Maester Luwin decided to tell them off again.

"I've heard the Tyrell women are some of the most beautiful girls in all of Westeros." Theon began, earning hopeful nods from Robb and Jon. They had discussed the girl's arrival all week, wondering if the tales could be true about the roses of Highgarden.

"Don't even think about trying to bed her, Theon. The Tyrells are one of the most powerful houses in Westeros. They won't take to it kindly if you dishonor one of their daughters." Robb advised, sounding every bit like the lord-in-training he was. Jon remained quiet, but Theon guessed he agreed with his brother. Jon was always trying to make up for the fact that he was a bastard by imitating his father and trying to act as honorable as Lord Stark. Theon thought it was rather boring to be so noble all the time, but he supposed he didn't know what it was like to be a bastard. His lord father still thought of himself as a king, despite all appearances. This, at least in the eyes of the Greyjoys, made Theon a prince.

"You two really need to fuck a girl, maybe you'd loosen up a bit." Theon snorted, rolling his eyes as Robb elbowed him.

"I swear I won't dishonor her, Stark. I imagine she's being fostered here in the hopes that the two of you will fall in love – I'd never dishonor your future lady wife." Theon added, only half-jokingly. Robb's face went slack, much to Theon and Jon's amusement. Theon strode ahead toward the south gate, not waiting for an answer.

In the courtyard by the south gate, Lord Eddard Stark was already waiting. Sansa and little Rickon stood next to him; Sansa looking pretty and patient in a pink dress while Rickon bounced around Lord Stark's feet. Theon guessed that Lady Stark was hunting down Arya and Brann, and was proven right when she arrived a few moments later with the two children in toe. The Starks lined up next to their mother and father whilst Theon and Jon were placed slightly behind them, always to be reminded of their proper place. The sound of riders quickly reached them, and Theon nearly laughed when he noticed Robb straighten up and run a hand through his dark auburn hair.

A small party of no more than fifteen arrived through the gate. First, a pair of knights carrying the Tyrell banner appeared, looking wary but relieved to be done with the long journey. They were followed by more guards, and finally, the lady herself. Theon was surprised to see that she sat on a horse, and she was not even riding sidesaddle. He wished he could see Lady Stark's face, for surely she was uncomfortable with such an unladylike display. Her horse too was unusual – fine-boned and tall, the dark stallion surged forward into the yard as if he had barely traveled a mile. The girl gently guided the horse past her knights, coming to a halt in the center of the courtyard. She was helped down by one of the knights. The knight escorted her over to Lord Stark as she fixed her green dress, which looked far too light for the North.

As she walked over, Theon was able to get a good look at her. The tales of Tyrell beauty had not been overstated, in fact, Theon thought they hadn't done the girl justice. She was small, shorter than Sansa despite being older, but her long silvery hair flowed gently in the Northern breeze. Her eyes could almost be Stark eyes, for they were just a little lighter than the pair Lord Eddard Stark possessed. Her face was one of the most lovely faces Theon had ever beheld, and he suddenly felt a bit jealous that the girl would probably end up betrothed to Robb.

"Lord Stark, may I present to you the Lady Alora of House Tyrell."

**Thank you so much for reading, and please leave a review!**


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